Mirror Image
by SisiDraig - 2
Summary: AU: Justin Taylor is trapped in a time that he doesn't belong but it seems the forces that be want to correct their error.-I've got no idea where this came from.It's a bit odd.I'm not really sure I like it but I'll let any willing readers be the judges...


**It's the product of boredom on a Sunday afternoon so ... maybe I'll blame that.**

**Disclaimer: I do now own the names of these characters or any recognisable features. I'm not even sure if I own the plot idea ... I might do, someone might have done something like it before ... who knows?**

* * *

It was another boring dinner party where all the guests are 'terribly pleased to meet you' or 'haven't seen you since you were knee high to a grasshopper'. He was sick of it. Family friends he'd never met telling him how handsome he looked, trying to set him up with their dearest Penelope or their darling Elizabeth. It was hell, a banquet hall full of hell. Girls with flouncing dresses, girls with pretty flowers, girls with pristine hair and girls with perfect walks.

"What about her Justin? She's just perfect for you."  
"What about her Justin? She's an excellent cook."  
"What about her Justin? She's the most beautiful girl in the entire town."  
"What about her Justin? She's rich."

Justin would look at each and every girl pointed out to him with the same level of indifference every time. They were fine, some even beautiful but he certainly couldn't imagine himself marrying any of them. They weren't what he wanted. He was waiting for something more special than this. He felt trapped in a time and a place he didn't belong. He couldn't explain it, not even to himself but he always felt like the great writer in the sky had got it wrong when it came to him. He'd been placed in a time when he didn't quite fit, a time of dancing with partners you don't find attractive, to music you don't find inspiring, talking utter nonsense with people you despise, or sometimes, on a good day, only dislike.

Everyday felt like a prison sentence and now it was only getting worse because he was nearing his eighteenth and that meant a desperate desire, at least on his mother's part, to find him a suitable wife. Of course, he couldn't just marry his best friend Daphne because she was black and that wasn't allowed, not in this day and age, not with his pristine heritage. He remembered his father once describing the arrangement like a pedigree pooch marrying a mongrel. That night Justin had thrown his dinner plate across the dining room and gone to bed hungry. He hadn't cared. Daphne was the person he cared most about in the world and his parents were too stupid and bigoted to see what an amazing person she was. He loved her more than he loved anyone but he wasn't in love with her. And that's what scared him, confused him even.

He'd been surrounded by beautiful women all his life but never once had he fallen in love. Never once had he experienced that punch to the gut realisation that he couldn't live without this person in his life. Well, he'd felt it once but that wasn't real. In fact it was nothing more than a dream but it had felt so real … so true. More true than almost anything else in his life. He still wasn't sure how it had happened and he certainly didn't know how to make it happen again. He stayed up every night until twelve for two months willing whatever the magic was to occur again but it didn't work. Nothing worked. It had been a one time thing, a dream, a hallucination. He told himself to forget but he couldn't. He couldn't get it out of his head. The grinding bodies, the naked torso's the thumpa thumpa of the music the drinks with their fancy names, the men with their fancy clothes and him. The man who'd made all the air leave his body like he'd been winded falling off a horse. The man who'd left him speechless with just one look and breathless with just one kiss. The man who'd asked if he wanted to go home with him in a strange magic carriage that could move without horses.

But he'd said no because he'd been to afraid of what could happen. He didn't know what this man would do to him. He wasn't sure what it was men did with each other behind closed doors. Perhaps a game of cards, or long conversation bragging about their most recent conquest but Justin had known that this man hadn't been after a game of cards or a conversation … he'd been all about racking up another conquest. And Justin couldn't understand any of it. But that was over … it was a ages ago that it had happened and it clearly wasn't going to happen again.

"Well," he heard his mother say in his ear for the umpteenth time, "what do you think of her?"

"Er, who?" Justin frowned.

"The girl there, blonde hair, blue dress. She's the daughter of the Mr and Mrs Greene. Great cook, good seamstress, fantastic dancer … you could do worse."

"I'm sure I probably could," Justin agreed, looking over to the attractive red head who was smiling back at him. "Now mother, if you'd please excuse me. I'm feeling rather tired."

"But this is _your _event," his mother protested.

"And it's been lovely," Justin smiled and with that he slipped away up to his room.

**:x:**

He led in his bed, listening to the faint sound of the band playing a slow waltz followed by music for a foxtrot. He imagined his mother and father showing off their dancing skills on the floor. He imagined many of the girls seeking him out to be their dance partner, it would be a chance for them to show him what a worthy wife they would be. But beyond the soft melody of the band, he could hear something altogether more interesting. A boom, boom, boom sound coming from somewhere very close but also very far away.

He sort of recognised it. It was the soundtrack to his most beautiful dreams. The memories of the time he'd spent in the arms of that god. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples hoping the sound would fade. He was really tired. He could do with a rest. He felt warm too, maybe like a fever but the thumpa thumpa just got louder and louder with every passing second. His eyes snapped open and he could see figures moving in his mirror just like they had nine weeks ago.

"Baby," he heard a voice calling, echoing loudly around the room. "Baby you okay, you look exhausted. What are you doing here? How did you even get in?"

Justin got out of the bed and walked over to the mirror. He could see one of the men he'd talked to the last time he'd gone to this place. He was one of the taller people he met, with make up on his eyes like a girl and clothes so bright and garish they'd hurt Justin's pupils. But he'd been funny and had had all these wonderful stories to tell about times when he was 'back home' in Hazlehurst and he was real, definitely real, staring right through the mirror, straight at Justin.

"Baby," the man repeated. His hand coming through the glass and stroking his face gently. "Come on. Come and get a drink. You look like you could use one." And the man grabbed his hand and pulled him through the glass without a second thought.

As soon as he passed through the mirror, the tiredness and the pain vanished and all that consumed him was the smell of this club, the feel of this club, the noise of this club and then he spotted him. The man he'd dreamed about every single night since he'd last been to this place. He was stood by the bar with the others and he looked just as beautiful as he remembered. Tall, dark hair, dark eyes, amazing body. Justin just gasped when he saw him. How pathetic. The man had literally taken his breath away.

"Lookie who I found," the tall man who had hold of his hand sang as they approached the bar. "It's Justin."

"Excellent," Brian scorned but he turned to the bar and ordered a Cosmo and a beer for the new arrivals.

"Now, baby, do you remember everyone? This is Ted," he said pointing to a balding man trying, and failing, to pick up some gorgeous guy. "This is Michael," he said, pointing to the shortest, cutest member of the group. He looked about twelve and waved to Justin like a twelve-year old would. "And I'm sure you remember Brian," Emmett indicated the beautiful brunette.

"He _should _remember all of us," Brian sighed. "He was only here yesterday."

"A night can seem like a long time to some people," Emmett shrugged knowingly, as Brian passed him his Cosmo and took his time about handing over the beer to Justin.

"I feel like I should be asked for ID," he smirked. "But seeing as I already know you're underage I guess it doesn't matter."

"Brian stop teasing him," Emmett scolded, taking the drink from Brian and handing it to the young blonde. Justin took a sip and winced as the bitter, golden liquid reached his taste buds.

"That's vile," he grimaced, handing the bottle back to Brian immediately.

The older man just laughed. "Too much for your underdeveloped taste buds? Perhaps a little lemonade would be better?"

"I'd like some wine," Justin said. "Red, is preferable."

"Christ," groaned Brian. "You're so demanding." But he turned back to order a glass of the clubs finest red wine and Justin downed it without a second thought.

"Careful there, Sonny boy," Brian laughed as he watched the red liquid slide down Justin's throat. "You'll be getting drunk."

"Another," Justin insisted as he felt a warmth gurgling up in his stomach and radiating outwards. This wine was much better than the stuff he was used to. This was stronger. He already felt a little light headed like he did when he drank about six glasses at home.

He felt another glass get pushed into his hand and he downed that too. He felt alive. There was a buzzing feeling building up inside him. He felt trapped like he had to let everything out. He wanted to dance.

"Come with me," he said, tugging on the brunets arm. "Come on. Come and dance with me."

Brian just smirked. He didn't care that the kid seemed to have no concept of anything about this club. His clothes were a mess like something from hundreds of years ago. His hair was a mess, his shoes were a mess, he couldn't grasp the concept of alcohol but he was hot. Very hot. So, Brian walked with him to the dance floor. He snorted loudly when Justin held out his arms as though about to take the lead in some kind of ballroom dance.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Brian asked.

"Oh," the younger man nodded like he understood and altering his arm position slightly he said, "you want to lead. I'm fine with that."

"We don't dance like that in Babylon," Brian chuckled, taking both Justin's arms and placing them around his own neck, whilst his own hands went to rest just above the kid's hips. He leant forward, pushed his lips right to the other man's neck and whispered, "we dance like this." And pushed forward to grind against Justin carefully. They danced all night, Justin was drunk and giggly as the other man swung him around and kissed him deeply.

Brian tasted like whiskey and cigarettes and a tangy taste of something else, probably the tablet thing he'd taken earlier and Justin thought the blend should probably be disgusting but it wasn't. It was perfect and Justin was left desperate for more when the older man finally pulled away.

"Come on," Brian whispered in his ear. "Let's go into the backroom and … talk."

Justin wasn't sure what a backroom was. He still wasn't sure what all these flashing lights were around the club or this crazy music but Emmett had explained it all to him last time and so far everything had seemed good so he nodded and Brian took his hand and began to lead him towards the back room.

As they pushed their way through the crowd, Justin began to feel weak. He tripped and stumbled over his own feet, bumping into everyone he saw. He was hot. Really, really hot. He could feel the sweat pouring off his body but he was shaking and shivering too. He yanked his hand from Brian's and legged it towards the restrooms. He felt sick. He was going to throw up, the bile in his stomach was churning and pushing upwards furiously. Justin fought it back, his eyes streaming with the strain of it. He pushed past the queue of guys and ran into the first cubical. There were two guys kissing but he didn't care. He pushed them out of the door with more strength than he knew he had and fell to his knees on the disgusting floor. He retched violently and that's when his eyes blinked open and he was starring into the face of his mother.

**:x:**

"Oh darling," she said, dragging him into a hug. "Thank god you're alright."

"Wh-where am I?" He groaned, looking from his mother, to his father to an elderly gentleman he didn't recognise. "Where's Brian?" His head was pounding and he felt awful. He tried to sit up a bit to look around him, to see the mirror but the action was too difficult and he just let out a loud groan and fell backwards.

"It's okay," his mother soothed, placing a cool palm onto his head. "Just rest, sweetheart. Just rest."

Justin wasn't asleep. He couldn't open his eyes, he couldn't talk he could barely move but he wasn't asleep. He could hear perfectly what was being said. He could hear the panicked tones as his mother asked the doctor if he would be okay. He could hear the solemn tones as the doctor replied that only time would tell. He could hear the anxious tones as his father asked if he would recover from this bout of fever and he heard the somewhat optimistic tones as the doctor explained he didn't think the bouts were long-term things.

"It's my estimation that by tomorrow, he'll be right as rain," the doctors voice said comfortingly. "But I'm not saying for a second it will stay that way. Until we can find out what is wrong with your son then there's no way we can treat it. Expect this to happen again." The doctor had sounded sorry and sorrowful as he'd said that final piece before Justin had heard the footsteps exiting his room and leaving him alone but as far as Justin was concerned no better words had ever been spoken. 'Expect this to happen again'. Justin couldn't wait.

But he had to wait. He had to wait almost three weeks. He'd sat by the mirror every night but it hadn't helped, he'd just ended up falling asleep near with his head on his desk. His mother refused to let him leave the house, through fear he'd collapse again and become unconscious so that had prompted Justin to attempt something of a prison break. He'd only gotten halfway down the extensive garden when he was caught by Tom the stable boy and taken unceremoniously back to the house on the back of a horse. It was useless. He tried everything to bring back Babylon but it couldn't be done.

It was a night when he'd almost given up hope completely, when the place returned again. He'd been feeling a little low all day. He'd barely had the energy to walk up the stairs to his room in the end and when he collapsed onto the bed he'd been too tired to care that it was 102 degrees and he felt like he was on fire. He'd been unaffected by the fact that despite his skin being hot enough to melt glass he still couldn't stop shivering. He'd just led there, unable to move, unable to think, unable to do anything. And that when the perfect, melodic headache had begun. The perfect thumping beat of white pain in his skull. Everything else began to pale into insignificance and then he heard the voice.

"Baby. Come on, lets dance." He used all his strength to lift his head and just like the other times, he could see Emmett stood behind the glass of the mirror waving and beckoning him. "Come on," he was laughing.

Justin nodded. He had to get to that glass. He dragged himself up off the bed. His joints felt weak beneath him and every step was making him wobble dangerously. He had to hold onto the wall, a chair, the bed anything he could reach to keep himself upright. With every step he took the thumpa thumpa in his head became louder and louder and more and more excruciating until he reached the mirror. He almost collapsed with the effort of it all but he was close enough for Emmett to grab him and pull him through.

"That's it baby," Emmett smiled, brushing off Justin's clothes and straightening his hair. "You're all better now."

And it was true. The heat, the pain, that was all gone. He felt free and good and sexy and he wanted to dance and he wanted to kiss Brian. He spotted him almost immediately, leaning against the bar and ran straight over to see him.

The older man groaned when he watched his brand-new stalker come cantering towards him.

"What the fuck do you want?" He asked, downing his drink as he watched the man he'd been cruising turn and walk in the other direction because of Justin's arrival.

"To dance," the boy smiled.

"No fucking way. I've danced with you twice. I've tried to fuck you twice and both times you've pushed me away. I don't give out third chances."

"Fuck me?" Justin asked looked completely confused. "But how can two men … I mean, aren't you missing…." He trailed off, he felt dumb asking the question and the way Brian was looking at him made him feel stupider than anything.

"Who the fuck are you?" Brian asked, a bemused tone to his voice. "The gay boy with no knowledge of how two guys fuck? Where've you been living, the nineteenth century?"

Justin just smiled but stayed quiet because 'yes, that was exactly where he'd been living'.

"Show me," he suggested quietly. And Brian took him home and did just that.

**:x:**

It wasn't long after Justin had fallen asleep, completely spent and totally satisfied that he'd heard his mother's voice echoing through his dreams.

"Justin!" She begged. "Justin! Wake up! Wake up!" The pleas seemed distant for a long time and Justin tried to reach out to Brian and hold on for as long as physically possible but eventually his mother's voice became too loud and his vision of Brian was barely there and then his eyes snapped open and his mother's sigh of relief echoed his own internal sigh of despair. He couldn't believe he was back. He'd never wanted to come back here again. He was in love with someone miles and miles away in a time that didn't make sense where the inventions were so confusing and amazing they were like magic. Where men fucked men and women fucked women and no one was going to arrest you for it. He wanted to go back. He hated this place. He hated that his mother and father were only interested in him finding a wife. He hated that if anyone caught him looking the wrong way at a waiter he'd be thrown to the streets or into the river or left to fend for himself in a forest at night. He just wanted a way to go back through the mirror permanently and he thought he knew who'd know how to do it too … Emmett Honeycutt. He seemed to be the man with the answers.

It was another week and a half before the shakes, the heat and the headaches engulfed him again but this time he welcomed it. He enjoyed the pain because he knew that any moment now, he'd be reunited with Brian. The pain arrived as usual. He saw Emmett, as usual. He struggled towards the mirror, it had never been this difficult to get there before and fell through the glass, with little finesse landing in a heap on the club floor.

"Oopsy daisy," Emmett chuckled, bending down and yanking his young friend to his feet. "You should really try to stay upright."

"Emmett," he said desperately, "I need to talk to you." He grabbed the man's hand and dragging him to a quieter corner of the club.

"Sweetie. What is it?"

"You know," Justin accused. "You know what I have to do to get here, to stay here. You understand how it all works. This mirror thing and the two worlds."

"Well," the man smiled, "I guess I _am _acting like your fairy godmother," he put his hands into the air and twirled around majestically. "Here, to unite you with your prince charming, who, by the way, is looking stunning this evening." He put a finger to Justin's chin and turned the younger man's face until he was looking straight at the brunet as he danced with two men grinding either side of him. Justin couldn't help but just stare for a moment before turning back to the other man.

"All I want to do, is stay here forever. I just want to always be with Brian. I never want to leave this world."

"It's impossible," Emmett sighed sadly.

"Really?" Justin groaned.

"Well, no," the fairy corrected himself. "It's not impossible for everyone, just for you."

"What do you mean?"

"To stay in this world, your true love must admit to loving you." His eyes flicked to the brunet as he dragged both men he'd been dancing with into the backroom. "Sweetie, in your case, you flying to the moon would be more likely."

"Haha," Justin chuckled. "Flying. Emmett, you're so funny."

And the taller man just nodded. Justin was doing an amazing job at adapting to this lifestyle and sometimes Emmett forgot that this boy was actually from the 19th Century. He forgot the boy thought the music speakers and the moving coloured lights were magic. And that he'd believed for a while that Brian's car was being drawn by invisible horses. Or that his head wasn't able to fathom everything but he just took in his stride because he had to because he'd decided he wanted Brian and nothing was going to stand in his way.

Justin was wrong. Things were going to stand in his way when it came to Brian. The two tricks going down on the older man in the backroom whilst he sat in what looked like a dentists chair were definitely getting in the way.

"Ah, Sunshine," he drawled when he'd spotted the blonde. "Care to join us?" And Justin had just gone to dance the night away alone.

The guy Brian had been fucking the next time Justin had come to this place had got in the way but Justin just kept hanging around and drawing Brian back and Brian was helpless to his charms. He felt like he was under a spell from the second he saw Justin.

He remembered as he'd fucked Justin for the first time he'd told him he was going to be there with every guy Justin was ever with. He'd had no idea the promise would work both ways. He couldn't get the kid off his mind. He saw him every night. He fucked him almost as often and still it wasn't enough to scratch the itch.

**:x:**

Justin was beginning to feel more confident about achieving his goal. In the life with his mother and father he'd been almost completely confined to his bed now. He could barely get up without the pain consuming him and the thumpa thumpa of Babylon pulling him near and he wondered if it had something to do with the fact that he was sure Brian was falling for him. He was kissing him every time he saw him, constantly choosing him over tricks. He almost felt like they were a real couple when Brian had his arms round him for no other reason than he wanted to as they stood near the bay in Babylon and talked with the guys. He loved it there. He actively encouraged pain in this life because he knew it brought pleasure in the other.

"He's not even trying," the doctor warned his mother one day whilst Justin was pretending to be asleep. "He's not trying to battle the illness off. It's like he wants to blackout. It's as though he's trying to make it happen. You've got to get him to fight it Jennifer because if he carries on like this, he won't make it until Thanks Giving."

It was later that evening that his mother had given him the pep talk. It had started with "you have to keep fighting. Stay with us until you can't possibly fight any longer."

"Why?" Justin had asked bluntly, taking a sip of the honey tea she'd brought with her.

Jennifer had started a little at that but she remained calm, "because otherwise, you'll end up in that place permanently."

"But I prefer it there," Justin explained. His mother gasped back a sob and covered her hand with her mouth.

"Please Justin," she almost begged. "I can't lose you. You're my little boy. You're all I have to show for my life. The only thing I've done right. Please. Please. Hang on … for me."

Justin looked at her coldly. He could feel a twinge of guilt for her because he knew he wasn't going to try to hold onto this life when a life with Brian was waiting for him just through the mirror but he didn't want to upset her, so he nodded his head gently and lied.

"I'll try, Mom."

"Thank you," she sobbed, kissing him on the forehead gently before telling him she'd let him get his rest.

**:x:**

He felt terrible. The worst he'd ever felt in his life before. He could barely move from the pain and needed the release that the other world gave him but the doctor and his mother were still in the room with him, monitoring his every movement and they were pinching him every time he shut his eyes and talking to him every time he tried to stare into middle distance. They weren't letting him slip into the other world. They were keeping him imprisoned in this world, believing that it was for the best. He tried to open his mouth, to beg them to let him go, but the bile in his stomach rose at an alarming rate and he stopped himself immediately. He could hardly gulp down a lungful of air, even the pain of his diaphragm moving was too much for him. And the stinging behind his eyes meant the tears falling from his tear ducts were blinding.

He was shaking, violently, his head was pounding and his body was weak when his eyes finally slipped shut and this time, no amount of talking or pinching would make him open them again. He couldn't if he wanted to and anyway, Emmett was there taking his hand and guiding him to stand upright and walk towards the mirror. He assumed the doctor and his mother must be able to see this but for whatever reason they weren't trying to stop him. Maybe they could see Babylon too. Maybe they'd even try and join him, maybe they could understand what it was like to fuck and suck and dance and sing and drink and do all the things that made him feel alive.

The walk to the mirror was the hardest it had ever been and Justin was sure that without Emmet, he'd have collapsed immediately but the mad was there to keep him strong until he fell through the mirror almost straight into Brian's arms.

"I've been looking for you," the older man said immediately. "I've got this new dildo I wanna try."

Justin just grinned and blushed as though that had been the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to him, before diving on Brian and kissing him furiously. God, he'd missed him in those few hours he'd pointlessly tried to fight off coming back here.

**:X:**

As soon as they'd reached the loft, everything had slowed down. Justin had begged the older man to take it slow. He'd been waiting for this for hours. He'd been dreaming of it every second that he'd been shivering and feeling like shit in that bed this was what he'd been waiting for and he didn't want it to be all over before he'd had chance to truly take in every moan, every groan, every thrust, every sensation. His mouth met Brian's hungrily and they kissed languidly as they moved carefully towards the bed. That was the first night that Brian and Justin made love.

**:X:**

Justin woke up the next morning and was pleasantly surprised to find he was still at Brian's. He rolled over to look at the older man, who was still sleeping, a thin layer of stubble barely visible on his jaw. He looked beautiful as he always did. Justin watched his eyes flutter open and watched as they fixed on him, his expression flicking between confusion and joy. Confusion won.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I stayed," Justin shrugged, kissing the older man gently at the corner of his mouth.

"You never stay," Brian said, and hated himself for how sad he sounded at that realisation.

"But I always want to," Justin informed him honestly. "I just can't."

Brian seemed to consider this for a second, his eyes flicking all around Justin's face drinking in every freckle, every scar, every mole, every blemish, every contour, every line, everything. It was a whole load of imperfections but to Brian it was perfect. He'd never wanted anyone like he wanted Justin. He'd never cared about anyone the way he cared about Justin. He felt somehow like Justin made him whole, like the way people claim in shitty romance movies; "you're my other half" they'd say. And he'd laugh, knowing that he was whole all by himself. At least that was what he used to believe … until now.

Now he felt incomplete when Justin wasn't around and it was only when the blonde was nearby that he could reach his full potential. He wanted to be everything he could be and more to impress Justin. He wanted to be there for Justin and take care of him and he also wanted Justin to be able to take care of him but he couldn't sum all that up in a word or a look or even a gesture so he just said;

"I'm glad you stayed," and kissed the younger man gently.

Justin just smiled a little and pulled himself closer to Brian. "I had to stay," Justin said honestly. "I love you."

Brian touched his face gently and for a moment, Justin was sure Brian was going to say it back but then he just got out of bed and went to the shower with no comment at all.

"What?" Justin exclaimed, leaping out of bed and following the taller man into the bathroom. "That's it? You're not going to say it back."

"Say what back?" Brian asked, as though they were talking about the weather.

"That you love me."

Again, Brian responded with silence and just put some shampoo in his hair and rubbed it vigorously.

"How could I have been so stupid!" Justin shouted. "I gave myself to you because I thought you loved me."

Brian rinsed the shampoo out and reached for conditioner.

"Are you not going to say anything?"

He squirted a generous amount of the cream onto his palm and used it to massage his scalp.

"But I know you love me."

He worked the cream into the tips to stop split ends and then tilted his head back under the water.

"Why won't you just say it!"

Brian shook his head free of shampoo, conditioner and reached for the soap.

"Just say it," Justin begged but Brian's lips stayed firmly pressed together as he stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel.

Wondering if the older man had been taken suddenly deaf, Justin decided to try a different topic of conversation. "Do you want breakfast?"

"No, I'll just have a glass of guava juice."

"So you can hear me then."

"Of course I can hear you," Brian scorned. "_Do I want breakfast_?" He repeated in an uncanny impersonation of Justin's voice.

"That's not the bit I meant."

"Well then," Brian said, dropping his towel and walking into the bedroom to find some clothes, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Justin could feel the tears, angry, hurt tears swelling inside him and he was out of the door before Brian had fully pulled on a pair of old jeans but he didn't stop to put on anything else, he just yanked on the pants and ran after him.

From what he knew of Justin, he was pretty sure the kid didn't belong in this world. He was sure that his confusion over the difference between an engine and an invisible horse or between electricity and magic screamed of another time and though he'd always been a sceptical man especially when it came to the bullshit that fell out of Emmett Honeycutt's mouth on a daily basis, he didn't want to take any risks with this kid. He cared too much for that. He chased him down the stairs two at a time, his long legs giving him an advantage as he almost caught up with blonde.

"Justin," he yelled he flung open the door to the building. He saw the younger man take a fleeting look back. He knew that look in his eye. It was hurt, it was pain, it was heartbreak.

"Justin stop!" Brian almost begged as he watched Justin running towards the end of the street.

He knew it was going to happen before it did. It was like a sickening sixth sense. He screamed at Justin to stop but he knew that would only make him run faster. He knew the kid was going to run straight no matter what. He was trying to get away so there was no way he'd turn the corner and stick to the pavement. Brian knew the crossing lights would still have a red hand telling him to stop but Justin wouldn't notice that. He was going to run forward, a car was going to hit him. He just knew it.

"JUSTIN!" He screamed and then, everything he'd predicted came true. "NO!" He cried.

* * *

Justin gasped awake surrounded by a doctor, his mother and father and a priest.

"Oh Justin," Jennifer smiled weakly through her tears. "Thank you Lord," she whispered, looking to the ceiling and crossing her chest.

"Wh-wh-wha…" Justin tried to speak but his mouth was dry. He felt weaker than he'd felt before and that was saying something. He could barely keep his eyes open. He wanted to go back so badly but the pain of being bit by that horseless carriage was still vivid in his mind. He'd felt like he'd been crushed like a fly. The pain had seared through him, white-hot, sharp agony but this was worse because this felt like dying that had just felt like pain. He just about managed to rasp out the word 'water' and immediately, his mother pressed a cold glass to his lips and he took some tentative sips.

"Justin, honey," she said, as she put the glass back onto a table. "This is Father Steven."

"H-hello," he choked out, looking at the pastor with confusion. Surely his parents hadn't turned to the healing powers of religion over a doctor but then he saw the rosary beads in the priests hand and the bible in his other and he saw the sorrowful look on the man's face and he knew exactly what was coming and for some reason, the words that should have scared him just made him smile."Father Steven is here to read you your last rites."

"I'm so sorry Justin," Father Steven informed him in a low baritone. "But rest safe in the knowledge that you are going to a better place."

"Yes," Justin nodded. "Every time I close by eyes I'm in a better place."

"And soon you will meet with God," the pastor said encouragingly.

"I've already met God," Justin whispered. "H-his names is Brian Kinney."

The four adults turned to each other looking completely confused.

"Hallucinations," the doctor dismissed. "Father, if you would begin." He pressed a palm to Justin's forehead and some fingers to the pulse at his wrist. "He doesn't have long left."

**:x:**

"Is he dead?" It was the only thing he could think of. He wasn't one to beat around the bush or hide the truth or wait for someone to deliver the news in their own time. He wanted to know that answer now. The nurse looked a little shaken. She literally just checked on the patient but she looked at the anxious brunet and she shook her head silently.

"Can I go in?"

She nodded, before adding, "please be careful not to disturb him and …." She stopped, considering the man in front of her for a second before taking a deep breath and continuing, "sir, I must warn you; the doctors aren't sure he'll wake up from this."

"I know," Brian said. He'd been told all that earlier after they rushed the mangled form that had once been the most beautiful body on the planet into the operating theatre. They'd warned him that the kid's chances of recovery were 50/50. They'd told Brian not to get too optimistic but he wasn't an optimistic kind of man. He just wanted a chance to say goodbye, to tell him … well … to tell him the truth.

**:x:**

"… Our Saviour Jesus Christ, suffered and died for us. In his name, my God, have mercy." Jennifer had helped her son struggle through the act of contrition and now he had to repeat after the priest. He didn't want to, he'd said as much several times but his father told him he must do it for his mother's peace of mind if nothing else. So, because Justin had always been a good son, he found himself using his last breaths in this world ensuring himself a safe path to a heaven he didn't believe in.

"Repeat after me Justin," the priest droned. "I believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth."

"I believe in God the Father Almighty," Justin coughed a little, droplets of blood appearing on his hand. He wished he could give up now. He wished he could just close his eyes and hope he returned to Brian. He'd take that gamble, Brian or nothing … it was risk worth taking but he saw the fear in his mother's eyes and he wanted her to at least be at peace so he gasped in another breath, "maker of heaven and earth."

"And in Jesus Christ, his only son our Lord."

"And in Jesus Christ," he took a long hard gulp of air, "his only Son our Lord."

"Good boy Justin," his mother sobbed, clutching his hand tightly. It was one of the only things he could feel though the pain that was numbing his entire being as the priest continued onto the next line.

**:x:**

Brian watched the line on the screen bouncing melodically, bleeping each time it completed a squiggly line. It was telling him that Justin was still alive that he could still hear him if he needed to tell him something … something important. He placed his hand on Justin's forehead and was disturbed by how cold and clammy it was. The kid was grey, ill, sick, dying. His entire right side was bandage. He had a broken leg, a dislocated wrist, internal bleeding which they'd only just managed to stop and some possible damage to internal organs. It was basically a waiting game. The brain scans were registering low brain activity and Brian believed that at some point Justin was going to become a vegetable. Only being kept alive by machines and then who's job would it be to make the decision to end Justin's life. He blinked, his eyes tearing up as he looked down at the beautiful man.

"Come on you little shit," he growled. "You better hang on … for me."

**:x:**

Justin heard it as clearly as he could hear the priest. It was Brian's voice, loud and clear and ringing beautifully in his ears, encouraging him to fight some more. It took everything he had to stop himself from repeating Brian's words instead of the ministers but he managed to concentrate in spite of everything and whisper,

"…the resurrection of the body; and the life everlasting. AMEN."

"Let us pray," the priest said, "Our Father, who are in heaven. Hallowed be thy name…" Justin could hear his mother whispering along with the priest whilst she brought his hand up to her cheek and pressed it close.

She was desperate for her son to be okay. She needed to know he'd be okay after he was gone from this world. She needed this, she needed the priest to be able to tell her that her beautiful son would be at the right hand of God. She kissed his hand and held it to her, mumbling the words right to it and Justin kept fighting a few minutes longer. He had to give his mother this. She needed it.

**:x:**

The bleeps were getting less frequent with every passing second. The flat line between squiggles was getting longer and Brian could do nothing but watch it. Justin's skin felt cold an clammy beneath his fingers and Brian didn't think he'd ever been more terrified in his life. The kid was almost translucent, like he was not only dying but fading and Brian couldn't bare it. He pressed a kiss to the kids forehead.

"Come on," he begged the machines, the heavens, Justin; anyone who would listen. "Let him wake up."

**:x:**

Justin could hear the pleading like Brian was right next to him, whispering in his ear and he wished he was because the pain now was almost unbearable but he knew it was almost over. He knew he was nearly at the end. He knew that soon, he could let the darkness engulf him and he could try to get to that mirror world.

"This is the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world," the priest said, holding his hand over Justin's body. "Happy are those who are called to his supper."

"Lord," Justin breathed. His words were hardly audible anymore. He couldn't open his jaw anymore than a millimetre and the pain was restricting his breath and his words. "I am not worthy … to receive you … but … only say the … word and I shall be … healed."

**:x:**

The bleeps, the squiggles were hardly making two on the screen. He knew he was losing Justin. He could feel it. Feel the very fibre of him ebbing away.

"No," he whispered. "Please," he begged. "Justin. Can you hear me? Twitch a finger if you can hear me."

**:x:**

Justin heard the command and squeezed the fingers of his free hand as tight as he could. He wasn't even sure if they moved. He wasn't sure of anything except the pain in his head. The constricting of his lungs and the weakness that was engulfing him, drowning him. He had a horrible feeling though that Brian's voice too was getting weaker instead of stronger and that's when Justin realised that he wasn't going to be with Brian when this life was over … he was just going to be over too.

Maybe the man had been in his mind after all. He was here when he needed him most, on his deathbed. On days when things had been particularly terrible, every time his parents had tried to force and engagement the time Tom the stable boy had carried him back to the house and all Justin had wanted to do was drag him in to the house or onto the hay and fuck till sunset. It had always been times when life had been hardest to deal with that Babylon and Brian had come to save him … so did that mean that Brian was just in his head? Did it mean that when he died, Brian died too? He squeezed his fingers again, he wanted Brian to feel it so much but he had no idea whether he would.

"The Body of Christ," the priest said solemnly.

Justin looked around the room, his mother, his father, his doctor, his priest … his Brian. He could see the man. He was right there, slumped over him with tears rolling down his face. He was begging him to keep going but Justin knew there was no way. He opened his mouth, took his last gulp of air and breathed,

"Amen."His head fell to the side, his mother sobbed, the doctor checked his pulse and shook his head confirming the worst and with that, they all filed out of the room, the doctor pulling the white bed sheet up over the deceased's face.

**:x:**

Bleeeeeeeeeeeep.

It was the most horrendous noise Brian had ever heard.

Bleeeeeeeeeeeep.

It was high pitched and painful to his ears but it also hurt because of what it symbolised. The end.

Bleeeeeeeeeeeep.

"Out of the way, sir," a nurse pushed him out of the room as they rolled a defibrillator in. Brian moved to the window as he watched a young doctor barely out of diapers, place two bits of plastic that looked like the salmon squares served at the diner onto Justin's chest and charging up the machine.

"CLEAR!" he yelled as shocked Justin's body. The lifeless formed jolted violently but nothing else happened.

"Come on," Brian begged, placing his palm flat against the window and crooking one finger as he watched. "Come on."

"CLEAR!" The body jumped but Justin didn't. He wasn't moving.

"Please," Brian begged at the window, a single tear leaking from his eye. "Come on you little fucker. You can't die … I love you."

"CLEAR!"

The body jolted again, just like all the times before nothing happened. And then …

Bleep, bleep, bleep, bleep, bleep, bleep.

Brian stared in disbelief as the line began to squiggle again and the nurse patted the doctor triumphantly on the back at the same time as Brian felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to see Emmett, stood there with a big smile on his face and fairy wings stuck to his back.

"I told you all it took was a little admission of true love," he smiled.

"Fuck off," Brian said but he couldn't help smiling too, because Justin was alright. He'd made it. He just knew everything was going to be okay from now on. "What the fuck are those?" Brian asked, tugging at Emmett's wings and pulling the elastic cord that kept them in place as taught as it would go before releasing it and revelling in the other man's yelp.

"These are my fairy wings," he explained, "Michael and I are going to one of those fairy gatherings. See if we can't work ourselves some magic of our own."

"I don't believe in magic," Brian scorned, looking back through the window at Justin, who already looked healthier with better colour in his cheeks.

"You should," Emmett sighed. "But I suppose that's the next stage. For now, I'm just glad that you believe in love."

Brian grimaced at the word but he didn't deny it and that was as much confirmation as Emmett could have ever expected.

"Wish me luck," he smiled. "Fairy Clearday, has a date with a cleansing, purifying experience … and fourteen rather well hung men playing naked volleyball. Toodles!"

Brian shook his head fondly as he watched his friend leave and turned back to the glass. He could watch Justin forever and he knew he probably would.

The weather was warm, bright with early morning sunshine casting long shadows over the graveyard.

* * *

"It's the perfect weather," Jen nodded contently. "It's exactly the kind of day Justin loved."

"I'm sure you're right," Craig nodded, putting his arm around his wife's shoulders. There were hundreds of people at the funeral. Justin had, after all, been the Taylor's boy. They were a well respected family. It had been a tragedy that someone so young had been taken so cruelly. Although Craig had originally tried to ban her, Jen had made sure Daphne got to be at the funeral. The girl had cried and cried but Jen had reassured her that Justin was in a better place. And then Father Steven began to talk;

"We do not know why our good Lord saw fit to take such a bright young man like Justin from us at such a young age. But although we are sad we must remember that it is selfish to wish Justin was still here with us when we know that he is now in a better, more beautiful place. Though his body may be gone, he is immortalised as his spirit enters heaven." He looked around at the gatherers around the grave and offered them a soft smile. "We can rest in the knowledge that Justin resides in heaven now at the right hand of god."

And as Justin walked onto the dance floor at Babylon for the first time since the accident, his left hand joined with Brian's right … the priest couldn't have known how right he was….

* * *

**Honest opinions are not only welcome but encouraged... **

**I'm still not sure about it.  
xx**


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